


A Very Wentworth Christmas

by rosefox



Category: Persuasion - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys Kissing, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Gender or Sex Swap, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:38:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosefox/pseuds/rosefox
Summary: Two weeks after Fred and Andrew get married, they go to Merle and Sophia's Christmas party.





	A Very Wentworth Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pariahsdream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pariahsdream/gifts).



> Thanks to hollowmen for the beta!

An hour into Merle and Sophia's Christmas party, Fred was deep in a fascinating conversation with his Uncle Jim, who shared his passion for the Age of Sail. They'd just started discussing historical accuracy and divergence in Naomi Novik's Temeraire books when Fred realized he hadn't seen Andrew in a while. Failing to spot him in the crowded living room, he excused himself and went off to find his husband.

It didn't take long. Fred stuck his head into the tiny, narrow kitchen and there Andrew was, helping Fred's brother arrange more cookies on pretty holly-bordered paper plates. He looked up a bit guiltily. "Sorry I disappeared," he said. "It got kind of loud in there, so I came in here for a minute and then Edward asked me to help out."

"No big," Fred said. "I just wanted to make sure you hadn't gotten scared off. My family gets a little boisterous sometimes."

Edward picked up two plates of cookies and delicately edged past Fred. All the Wentworths were broad and tall, and New York apartments were not made to fit them. Fred was impressed that Edward managed to get out of the kitchen without knocking any of Merle's garish rainbow magnets off the fridge.

"Your family is _amazing_ ," Andrew said softly. "Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea what Christmas parties were like at my house?" 

Fred thought about it and shuddered. 

"I used to dream about Christmas parties like this," Andrew said, "where people actually liked one another and had a good time."

"We definitely do that," Fred said. A burst of laughter came from the other room to punctuate his sentence, Sophia's full-throated shout of joy rising above the rest. "It's just... I know it's not what you're used to."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," Andrew said. "I promise I'm having fun. I just got a little overwhelmed by the noise."

"No, I just mean..." Fred fumbled for words. "I mean, paper plates and cheap beer." He shrugged. "I guess _I_ used to dream about Christmas parties like your family's, where everyone was fancy and glamorous and rich."

"I would so much rather drink cheap beer with you and your siblings than sip Champagne with mine," Andrew said. "Wouldn't you?"

"Well, yes, obviously," Fred said. The two of them had been dutifully invited to Liz and Walter's annual thing, and had taken great pleasure in checking the "regrets" box on the embossed RSVP card.

Andrew pushed away from the sink and came over to wrap an arm around Fred's waist. He was short and round and gave the best hugs in the world, and Fred leaned against him and soaked up the warmth of his nearness, trying to let the anxiety go. He knew better, but they'd been apart so long, and only together again for less than a year. He still couldn't really believe Andrew wasn't about to vanish for another eight years like some sort of fairy prince.

"Also, your family's parties are much queerer than mine," said Andrew, whose thoughts had clearly been traveling along different lines. "I mean, your family's much queerer, that helps. But I feel so much safer here than I ever did at home."

Fred pulled him closer. "That's all I want," he said. "For you to feel safe, and happy."

"I really do," Andrew said warmly. "I really, really do."

"Safe enough to kiss me in the middle of my family's Christmas party?" Fred said mischievously.

Andrew grinned. "Absolutely." 

"In that case..." Fred drew him toward the doorway.

"No, wait—I meant in here—" But he was laughing, and followed freely along.

"There's no mistletoe in here," Fred said, giving him a teasing smile. "Come on."

Fred felt giddy as he pulled Andrew down the hallway, past a cluster of Sophia's college friends, to the living room's wide entryway, where the obligatory sprig of mistletoe hung from the center of the arch. Needing no further prompting, Andrew stood on tiptoe and planted a firm kiss on his husband's mouth. Somewhere nearby, Merle and Sophia whooped encouragement.

Fred expected Andrew to pull away, but instead he reached up to cup Fred's face and keep him close, the kiss growing just a little hotter without turning into anything that might make Fred uncomfortable in front of his family—Andrew was a master of social nuance. His lips were soft and slightly parted; he tasted of peppermint cocoa and sugar cookies. Fred wobbled a bit. How was he so lucky? How was this his life?

After a minute, his neck began to ache, and he reluctantly pulled away. Andrew beamed at him. "More later," he said.

"More later," Fred agreed, a little breathlessly. "Merry Christmas, you."

"Merry Christmas, Fred." They clung to each other for a moment, Andrew obviously reluctant to let him go. It occurred to Fred that maybe he wasn't the only one who worried that all their newfound joy might disappear. 

"Move over, bro," Sophia said, coming over to elbow him. "You're hogging the mistletoe." She had clearly been enjoying the vodka punch; her face was flushed and she looked ready to drag Merle over for a rather more intimate embrace.

"The newlyweds are having a moment," Edward called from the other side of the room, where he'd roped Merle and their mothers into a game of euchre. "Let them have it."

Sophia rolled her eyes at her youngest brother. "You just don't wanna watch me make out with my spouse."

"That too," Edward said dryly. "At least Fred and Andrew kept it clean."

"Listen to the sober parson! Sex isn't _dirty_ , you know. Didn't they let you read the Song of Solomon in dini—div—divinity school?"

Fred and Andrew, forgotten in the bickering, wandered over to the dining table and helped themselves to more cookies. Andrew got powdered sugar on his nose; Fred gently brushed it off, watching his wedding ring glint under the strands of blinking red and green lights that had been strung haphazardly along the walls. He still wasn't used to having a ring on.

"I wonder whether I'll have to take this off when the season starts," he said. "Coach King gets stressed about anything that might affect my batting."

"You've got a few months, right?" Andrew said. "It'll be part of your hand by then."

"Pitchers and catchers report in... God, six weeks or something." He shook his head. "Forget I said anything. I don't want to think about baseball right now. I'm on vacation."

"Oh, but we can think about Florida weather," Andrew sighed. "I can't wait."

Fred blinked. "You'd come down to Florida with me?"

"Uh." Andrew blinked back. "Don't you want me there? I don't have to if it would be awkward."

"No, of course I want you there! The guys all want to meet you. And it's not like anyone's going to be surprised to see us together." 

Fred had come out to the rest of the Yankees by sending them wedding announcements, an idea of Andrew's that had worked brilliantly. It set a positive tone that had been echoed by all the news coverage. Fred wasn't the first openly queer MLB player, but he was the first who was a widely respected team captain, and the warm response from his teammates and fans had been a huge relief. 

But somehow Fred had never thought of bringing Andrew down to spring training. "I just didn't know you wanted to come with me," he said. "All the other guys' partners think it's boring."

"Whither thou goest, I will go," Andrew said, just like he'd said it two weeks ago when they'd stood at the front of Edward's church and slid those rings onto each other's fingers.

Fred hugged him again, trying and failing to think of some suitably romantic response. "You'd better," he said finally. "You'd just better."

"You dork," Andrew said with great affection.

"Look, you knew what you were signing up for. Us blue-collar jocks aren't known for our way with words."

Andrew took his hand. "I signed up to spend the rest of my life with the kindest, boldest, sexiest, most honest man I've ever met, who was willing to give me a second chance after I totally blew the first one. And who also happens to be a total dork. And I have no regrets at all." 

Fred stared at him, speechless, feeling warm all the way down to his toes.

Andrew kissed Fred's fingertips and folded their hands together. "Hey," he said lightly, easing them both out of the sappy moment. Fred suddenly remembered they were at a party—despite the chatter all around them, he'd managed to forget. "Let's go back into the kitchen. Someone promised me a cheap beer."

"Whither thou goest, I will go," Fred said, and they went together, hand in hand.


End file.
